Watts stood in the glowing expanse of the Literal Realm, his form illuminated by the surreal hues of shifting reality.
His focus was now no longer on the facility, he was done with that, so right now he had something important to do.
Before him, his aunt and sister lay on a bed he had conjured, their faces peaceful in unconsciousness.
He had already inscribed the runes necessary to heal them, channeling the energy of the realm into their battered forms.
Now, as the magic worked its course, he waited, his hands fidgeting by his sides.
Their breathing steadied first, soft and rhythmic, as the runes pulsed faintly before fading from sight.
Slowly, their bodies stirred, subtle movements that signaled they were regaining consciousness.
Nova noticing this, chirped and flattered her wings flying and perching on Watts' shoulder, curiously looking at them.
